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i would sing you a song

the texture of aqua

the fierceness of barnacle

a song to hold you

hold you

sing with a mother’s voice, hair flowing

on those wrinkled nights

i would sing you a song to loose your frustration

to draw your hair from your face while you retch

you retch

the rusted anchor from your belly

drown out the volume of your despair

despair

sing you a song to billow your imagination

imagination

a song to float you beyond your waterlogged oars of no way out

no out

the song would be a flood to swallow away

how your roots never really took

roots never took

how you never quite planted, what with the sandy bottom always moving

never planted

water down how you no longer care

about taking a bat to the tv

we no longer talk, never did

hiding your claws like relief inside your shell

while he is lost in his bottle out to sea

the message inside is faded but

this song would hold you like a Mother

like a Mother

it would rock you and strum your spine

with day glow fingers

dream you into being

to being

reattach your umbilical to the flow

a siren song to make you forget everything you are not

you are not

this song would be louder than everything else and all you could think about is this song

you would bleed this song

it would breathe you

and nothing would concern you

but your yearning

to get back

to this song.

mermaid by Katrina Sesum. See more of Katrina's work at: http://katrinasesum.com/watercolour.html

Mermaid by Katrina Sesum. See more of Katrina’s work at: http://katrinasesum.com/watercolour.html

Mermaid, by Katrina Sesum, was in part inspired by the song “Pandora’s Aquarium” by Tori Amos. Click here to listen.

 

i wouldn’t trade you

for a pursed smile behind a locked heart
that looks so good in leotard suburbia

i wouldn’t trade
your spit and blue lips, punch in the throat

for all the gabled lawns in the hamptons
pretending tidy and wrapped in comfort

wouldn’t trade it even though everybody can see through
your thin white skin, you can feel it tear
seeking the purple birth of spring

i wouldn’t trade you for the ring around a fairy
money in the bank
or the symmetry of stable chemistry

it wouldn’t be real

i want you to feel, motherless chimpanzee

your acute appendicitis is as real as your eyes
drilling holes in the falsehood
driving down to the truth that hurts so real

i wouldn’t trade your feelings, thick and red like lava
that stops everything and burns

wouldn’t trade your pearl magic living side by side with fear

wouldn’t even trade the stricken hole in your mouth coughing up roles
like chicklets

staking your place until the earth rots and you pull up your roots
then set again

i wouldn’t trade what’s real

like the trying on of sizes

chewing the gum of bitterness

wouldn’t trade your shadow for the sky scraping transcendence
because it’s down here, down below where the portal is

i know you’ll find it because
you Are a sky-embracer Already.

i wouldn’t trade you for the world.

IMG_0544

 

 

for my daniel

 

can i just fall into your ocean, my love?

wrap your water arms around me

let the currents be still

not carry us away?

let us be here

in our underworld happiness

make time stop and not let the storms push their way in

stay in this pocket of warm-water-light to savor

the taste of having

of loving and making…

will your strong arms banish the pirates

who mean to steal away what is left of our sweet supper

take away in pieces what a lifetime took to sew?

let them pass over us in their mean ships

find another shore

let us be invisible to the fisherman’s hook

leave us here to sway

and dream starfish color

look for seashell poems

sing love fish songs together

forever, as big as the sea

safe in the refuge of your ocean arms

Art by artist and musician, Dolly Rappaport see her page at https://www.facebook.com/Dahliarappaport

Art by artist and musician, Dolly Rappaport
see her page at https://www.facebook.com/Dahliarappaport

today is about consciousness

my lack of it

my fear of it

my desperation to be it

my struggle to embrace it, yet reject it

to run from it, like cool shade from hot sun

shade that grows like a monster or shrinks like a coward

staring consciousness in the mouth and swimming with it

delighting in it

tentatively allowing it to unfold me

uncrimp me

turn me into flowing

instead of road blocks of angst.

today is the blanket of consciousness around me

the sun card

that can absorb me

only as much

as i am willing

to let go

Sun Card

it’s the measuring out

eye of a day

blinks and consumable bites

of human perseverance

is there anything else that matters?

and then: what do you do when your confidence in life flakes like chalk

the appeal of an ordered life loses it’s charm

you are left unbridged

from here to nowhere or somewhere unknown

does a water drop have a reason?

if I can’t see past the curtain, i am batting around in half knowledge

the destination is hidden from me

i am left on this side of knowing

to conjure up some hope, style a faith

of how little or how big it is to be alive

searching for meaning or contentment from life’s menu

i am  sent back by Teacher

back to the classroom

wondering if i matter

wondering if i can be reprieved of this

wondering if my life will add up to anything

anything at all

lightless interval
before the rise
salt tears awaken
drawing soft trails on drift wood
my life line
swollen against the cage
waits to be set free from fear
like a flock of birds at sunrise
soft wood floats out to sea
sinking back to mother
so far from home

Photo courtesy of Sue Munroe

cringed awake to cloudy, grey billows too tired to move

bits of wind urged them on so slowly i barely noticed getting out of bed

crusty clouds weighing me down, sleep walking my step

air pressure pushed down and i followed it

grappling under flagstones of a dragging heart

i did not want to drop deep

drop deep into the nether regions of my soul and ask why

i wanted to pull the covers over my head

bring back the night cocoon

hide deep in safe slumber cave

but sleep turned me out and day-not-awake came instead

lured me to a sleep walk

mock life

i did not think it mattered

to see some blue patches come through

but pressure lifted and then more blue, more blue

oceans of white pilgrims drifted through

the sun brought itself out to color a black eye

usher me out of underworld drift

shift me awake, bear up and

squint my eyes to the movements

of a new day

Art courtesy of Carmeon Leon

Art courtesy of Carmeon Leon

layed she down on the hard
gravity pulled
and saw her mark
stained upon the sidewalk

there it was
the outline of a life
burned under the stars

she rose up
took in her print engraved upon the measured square
the outline of perennial personality
a bankrupt life, flailing
etched across the pavement

beckon sun to burn
moon to pull away birthmarks
until the image she has believed in her whole life
succumbs to the moon wash and the sun rays

bleeds into the cement
disappears down under
releasing
where she began

forfeiting
the prediction
of where she would end

courtesy of Dina Janel See more of Dina's unique art on her FaceBook page: http://www.facebook.com/#!/dinajanel?fref=ts

courtesy of Dina Janel
See more of Dina’s unique art on her FaceBook page: http://www.facebook.com/#!/dinajanel?fref=ts

i’m waiting for the medicine to kick in

to make me not care

help me not think

give me a “take me away calgon moment”

if you don’t know what Calgon is, you are too young to read this

calgon was back in the good old days

when our dads were fathers we only saw between dinner and bedtime

and our moms wore aprons and stayed at home all day

and drank and smoked

Calgon boxes of bath powder on the bathtub ledge

which must not have been entirely effective

because there were these pills called mother’s little helpers

which I suppose did help

and I could use one of those right now.

Art courtesy of Eliezer Sobel see his website at http://www.eliezersobel.com/portfolio.html

Art courtesy of Eliezer Sobel
see his website at http://www.eliezersobel.com/portfolio.html

they come down from their gated thrones
ask for a typed page
or notarization

their eyes roll around my lopsided office
cracked steps
rusted roots
musty windows and happy spiders

i don’t have time, time for details
like spinning ewebs, crystal windows
or sinking sunsets

my plants are thirsty
but i place my stamp on their beloved page
or spin a resume
charge half price
then return to the flickering screen
the inbox and data entry

i recall my choice of business major
to dispel the family joke of being a
Basket Weaver

i type their jobs
calendar their dates
sticky web with its html is beyond me but i try
i try
and i am all tangled up

yet inside
a world away from all of that
i dream

i still dream

this poem placed 3rd for free-form poetry at the 2014 San Mateo County Fair

Art by Sarah Curtiss go to www.graceartgroup.com

Art by Sarah Curtiss
go to http://www.graceartgroup.com

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